


the cartinelli chronicles

by ninemoons42



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Blanket Fic, Dare, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff and Humor, Libraries, Literal Sleeping Together, Meet-Cute, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Sleep, Sleepy Cuddles, Tea
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-18 05:02:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3557003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninemoons42/pseuds/ninemoons42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Much like my <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1515413">winter soldier ficlets</a>, this is a place for me to stash what are now my Cartinelli bits and pieces (other than the ones already in established fics, chaptered or otherwise.</p><p>The ficlets are not connected to each other unless otherwise stated, and may often, as so happens in AUs, wind up contradicting each other.</p><p>Guest stars from all over Marvel (and some who may not even be from those universes) may appear.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. tea for two

**Author's Note:**

> Much like my [winter soldier ficlets](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1515413), this is a place for me to stash what are now my Cartinelli bits and pieces (other than the ones already in established fics, chaptered or otherwise.
> 
> The ficlets are not connected to each other unless otherwise stated, and may often, as so happens in AUs, wind up contradicting each other.
> 
> Guest stars from all over Marvel (and some who may not even be from those universes) may appear.

“I don’t know, English,” Angie said as she looked doubtfully at the chipped mug of tea that the woman who stayed next door handed her. “What’s the point of making tea if you intend to drown it in milk and sugar?”

“You try it straight,” Peggy said, and made as if to get up and go back to the sideboard. “I might even give you a nickel if you managed to down half a cup of pure PG Tips the way I brew it.”

Angie made a face. “You’re offering me money? Are you serious?”

Peggy was grinning wickedly now. “Absolutely.”

“Well, it’s just tea — how bad can it get,” Angie said, and then put the mug full of tea and milk and sugar down. “You drink that, I’ll take whatever you’ve got.”

“Famous last words,” Peggy laughed, and poured a scant inch of pure strong-brewed tea into another cup. Even she had to shudder at the overwhelming aroma coming from that vessel.

“Ugh, it looks like death,” Angie said, and downed the contents in one swallow. “It TASTES like death. Now give my my nickel.”

Peggy dropped two nickels into Angie’s hand and a kiss on her forehead, and then went back to the cupboard where she kept the biscuits. “Custard Cream?”

It was funny how Angie perked right back up at the offer of her favorite mid-day snack. “Yes please,” she said, and took a cautious sip from what was now Peggy’s mug.


	2. Sunday morning, sleep all day

Peggy came to very slowly, like climbing hand over hand up a rope that continually shook her off. The smell of ink and paper and cotton in her nose -- she scrubbed her eyes open with her knuckles and lifted her head from --

Well, she was in her own bed. That was a good thing, right?

And she was surrounded by her books and pens and notebooks. A blanket around her shoulders. Her laptop computer with its cables, humming with satisfaction to itself on the floor next to the bed. Another laptop next to it, familiar, with colorful stickers of food and candy and wide-eyed round-faced characters with overly expressive hair on the lid. 

And she'd apparently spent a few hours drooling on her own textbook -- she sighed and found a tissue from the wads on the nightstand and wiped the page that she'd been sleeping on -- and why could she hear the sound of someone breathing very close by?

Peggy turned her head. 

Well.

Apparently there was someone breathing very close by.

Tangled in the rest of Peggy's pillows and what Peggy recognized as the awful green and purple afghan that her roommate's uncle had made for her was Angie: Angie who was fast asleep, Angie who had a ton of curlers in her hair, Angie who had apparently fallen asleep to _Jane Eyre_ if the book that had fallen away from her hand was any indication.

Freckles and skin that added its soft rose to the early-morning sunlight.

Angie slept on, oblivious, even as Peggy rearranged herself and the two of them: as Peggy put all the books away and placed their laptops on her own desk to charge; as Peggy fetched more pillows from the linen closet and drank a liter of water to wash the yech away from her teeth and throat; as Peggy climbed back into bed and turned Angie around so that now Angie was sleeping cocooned carefully in pillows and blankets and afghan and Peggy's arms.

Peggy kissed the top of Angie's head.

Angie stirred and cuddled closer. "Love you too, English. Five more minutes?"

"Sleep as much as you want," Peggy replied and, smiling, closed her eyes.


	3. introductions

Angie looked up from her stack of books when the door to the carrel opened quietly, and -- there was a girl in the doorway, about her age, looking a little tousled and a little confused. “I’m sorry,” the newcomer whispered, “have you seen a tall guy, dark long hair, wears leather gloves? I seem to have misplaced him -- he’s my study partner -- ”

“He went over into the other carrel,” Angie said. 

Before she could say anything else, however, the girl in the doorway tossed her a quick smile. “Thanks,” and quick as thought, quick as the way she’d barged in and kind of stuck herself in the back of Angie’s head as an image of someone gorgeous and someone cute and also someone completely unknown, she was gone.

“I was going to say,” Angie said, softly, to the door swinging shut, “that your study partner might have brought his boyfriend with him.”

And no sooner did she finish saying that than the door came back open and the girl in the doorway appeared again, the difference between now and then being the bright red amused flush coloring her cheeks. “Why didn’t you tell me,” the girl asked, “that Bucky brought Steve in with him?”

“You didn’t stick around long enough for me to finish talking?” And impulsively Angie pushed some of her books into a neater stack. Yanked her backpack from its resting place on the other chair that just barely fit the table. “You can come study with me instead. I promise I won’t bother you. But it’s nice to study with company.”

“I won’t say no to that.” The girl settled in with a calculator and a bunch of thick textbooks, pulled a box of pencils from her bag, extracted a blue book from one of the textbooks. Before she could set to work, however, she looked up at Angie and said, “Have I seen you before?”

“You’re in my Asian History class,” Angie told her, and quickly and impulsively decided that now was not a good time to tell the girl that she’d been imagining her in long flowing silk and all kinds of theatrically embellished robes.

“Right, then, I remember you. Peggy, Peggy Carter.”

“Angie Martinelli.”

“The girl who reads Shakespeare in every language, right,” Peggy Carter said.

“And you’re the girl who sketches circuitry diagrams everywhere she goes. Even on her test papers.”

“That’s me.”

Angie held her hand out to shake.

Peggy’s hand was warm and rough and pencil-stained and firm in its grip.

Angie didn’t want her to let go, and was content with studying next to her, side-by-side.

**Author's Note:**

> I am also on [tumblr](http://ninemoons42.tumblr.com/).


End file.
